


The Best Kind of Friends

by The_Shame_Basement



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Come Inflation, Cryptid Sex, Dirk Strider: professional furry, Dumbass Dave Strider, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Monster sex, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgy, Sloppy Makeouts, Trans Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, YouTuber Dave Strider, argument, impromptu orgy, unsafe pasta-handling practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shame_Basement/pseuds/The_Shame_Basement
Summary: What are you doing Friday?Dave's a YouTuber, and when he hears about the local urban legend supposedly located right outside his house, he figures it's too good a vlog opportunity to resist. Somehow, to the surprise of absolutely everyone, things go downhill from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lizardlicks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardlicks/gifts).



> This was so much fun to write– I hope you like it!

You decide, not for the first time, that you hate coyotes.  
At least, that’s what you assume this is. There’s a pretty incredible racket coming from the woods outside your house; yipping and snarling and unearthly guttural noises, like the gates of hell have unleashed something very vocal and very unhappy into your backyard. Probably they got a deer or something.  
You groan, and roll over to mash your face into the pillow. A bleary glance at your bedside clock tells you it’s a little past one in the morning. Fuckers’ve been at it for almost an hour at this point. Or at least that’s how long you’ve been awake.

Given all this, you’re bored and annoyed, which always leads to good decisions. In the dim greenish light from your bedside clock, you can see your phone resting innocently on the nightstand; you snatch it up, and squint into its glare while you fumble to open your messaging app.

TG: hey so im up rn

TG: and i cant fucking sleep

TG: if you happen to also be up then please text me because im dying of boredom over here

You hit the send button with the side of your thumb after a few attempts, and sigh as you roll onto your back.

GG: hi dave!

Well hey, would you look at that. Success.

TG: oh shit hey i didnt expect you to actually be awake  
TG: i didnt wake you up did i

GG: nope! i took a nap earlier and cant fall asleep. :P

TG: fair enough

GG: what about you?

TG: what about me

GG: why cant you sleep? just not tired?

TG: nope  
TG: fuckin coyotes outside my window  
TG: theyve been making weird noises for like an hour and its super loud

GG: :O !!!

TG: what

GG: are you SURE its a coyote???

TG: pretty sure  
TG: or i mean i havent seen em with my eyeballs but thats in the general ballpark of what it sounds like

GG: it might be the new brunswick demon!

TG: im sorry what

GG: have you not heard of the new brunswick demon??

TG: were not even in new brunswick what the hell

GG: thats just where its from!

TG: wait is it actually a demon  
TG: because if so that seems sort of mean to canada

GG: im not sure!  
GG: its apparently huge and has very pointy teeth and glowing eyes.

TG: goddamn  
TG: are you serious

GG: yeah! it makes noises like a coyote and apparently some guys saw it like five years ago in the woods.

TG: which woods

GG: those woods!

TG: like the one outside my house you mean

GG: yeah! they were driving and almost hit it.

TG: oh man  
TG: oh wow

GG: ?

TG: jade  
TG: i have got to find this thing

Your phone buzzes with more texts from her, but they go unnoticed as you scramble out of bed and over to your computer. Fuck sleeping, this is going to earn you more subscribers than the silly string prank with John ever did.  
A quick once-over of the internet returns a scant few results. You scour them, making notes of the details– some people say it looks like Bigfoot, some people say it’s just some kind of oversized coydog mutt, some people say it’s a literal demon with horns and everything. In addition to the guys Jade mentioned, there’ve been a few other reported sightings of it in the past decade or so.  
There’s not a lot of consistency between accounts, apart from the glowing eyes and general large-sized furriness, but everyone talks about the absolute _terror_ they felt when seeing it, like they were certain they were about to die right then and there. Like the very air was prickling with fear.

It sounds baller, frankly. You can already see the visual composition in your mind’s eye– the trees, lit dimly by your flashlight; the crunch of leaves underfoot, captured on your best mic; the tastefully shaky camerawork. You want to style this as sort of a Blair Witch Project thing, it’d look fake if you tried to do it on a nice camera. But you can’t film and man the mic all by yourself, and besides, it’s always more interesting with multiple people.  
You need–  
You need a _film crew._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

CG: NO.

TG: dude come on  
TG: its gonna be so much fun

TA: no, actually, iim wiith karkat on thii2 one.  
TA: thii2 2eem2 dumb and boriing at be2t, and liike pokiing a hornet2 ne2t at wor2t.  
TA: and a2 a beekeeper ii know a thiing or two about pokiing a hornet2 ne2t.

TG: okay but hear me out

CG: NO, DAVE.  
CG: WE HEARD YOU OUT ON THE SILLY STRING IDEA TOO, AND GUESS HOW THAT ENDED UP.

TG: aw come on that was hilarious

CG: DAVE, I AM SAYING THIS WITH ALL THE LOVE IN MY HEART, FROM MY POSITION AS YOUR BOYFRIEND.  
CG: YOU CAN BE REALLY, REALLY, SPECTACULARLY DUMB SOMETIMES.  
CG: THIS IS ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

TG: karkat  
TG: are you implying you believe in the new brunswick demon

CG: WHAT?  
CG: NO.

TG: because if so

CG: DAVE.

TG: that sounds to me like an excellent reason to go and say hi to it

CG: DAVE, CHRIST ON A CRACKER, STOP.

TA: eheheheh, you guy2 are riidiiculou2.

CG: SOLLUX, FUCK OFF BACK TO WHATEVER SLIMY ROADSIDE DITCH YOU CRAWLED OUT OF, YOU’RE NOT BEING FUCKING HELPFUL.  
CG: DAVE, WE’RE NOT DOING THIS.  
CG: THIS IS A STUPID IDEA.

TG: now hang on now

CG: I’M SERIOUS. THIS IS THE KIND OF THING A BUNCH OF DRUNK PRETEENS WOULD DO TO IMPRESS GIRLS. WE ARE BETTER THAN THIS.  
CG: END OF STORY.  
  
\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is offline -- 

TG: wait no  
TG: god damn it

TA: eheheheheheh.  
TA: better luck next tiime, dumba22.  
  
\-- twinArmageddons [TA] is an idle troll --

Well then.  
If you’re being entirely honest, that did not go according to plan– but you’re sure you can get both of them in on this if you try hard enough.  
You just need to do a little more convincing.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

You pick your moment carefully. Saturdays are your date days, so you invite Karkat over (Dirk’s out at some kind of robotics tournament) and as such have several hours of him all to yourself. You play all his favorite levels of Mario Kart with him, you make him breakfast burritos exactly how you know he likes them, and then, finally, after the ending credits of The Princess Bride have finished rolling, you make your move.

You’re already snuggled up with him on the couch– he’s nestled up under your arm and clinging to your chest like a sloth to a branch– so it’s not too much of a shift to slide your free hand up along his chest, rubbing gently at his shoulder before splaying your fingers out over his stomach.

He makes a soft noise and tilts his face up at you, and you press your fingertips lightly in against his shirt and purr down at him, letting your Texan twang out just a little more than usual.

“Hey, handsome.”

He grins a little and rests his hand over yours, rubbing gently at your knuckles. Your heart melts. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this.

But fuck, you just _know_ this is going to be the coolest thing ever. And anyway, if his mind’s seriously made up, he doesn’t have to change it on your account.

“I kinda really want to jack you off, if you’re in the mood for it.”

His eyes go wide, and he bites his full lip and stares up at you, wondering and awestruck. You have to wonder when he’s going to stop being utterly gobsmacked at the prospect of you enjoying getting him off, but today clearly isn’t that day.

You lean down to kiss him instead of making him explain himself, and he makes a quiet, high-pitched noise against your lips and opens his mouth, shivery and yielding against you.

He’s not like this with anyone else. You’re the only one he lets take him apart like this.

 

You curl your fingers against his stomach and ruck up his shirt, pushing it up under his arms and smoothing your hands hungrily over the bare expanse of skin. His breath hitches a little and he clings to you, gripping at your wrist. His mouth finds your collarbone and he presses an openmouthed kiss there. You can already feel his smile against your skin before the shiver goes through you. He knows just how to play you.

But you know a thing or two about him too.

Your hands find his ass and you haul him into your lap, squeezing and pulling him in to grind against you, nosing in against his face so you can kiss him nice and deep. You’ve both had enough sweet, languid sex to last you a lifetime– and besides, he makes such amazing noises when you get a little _rough_.

As such, you nose downwards and bite sloppily at his jaw, tonguing at the faint scruff there, rocking your hips upwards so he can tell how much you want this too. He rewards you with a squeak and a hand tangled in your hair, tugging just the way he knows you like it, _god_ –

You’re gasping before you know it, and your fingers tremble against his back.

 

It all goes through you like flame through oil and you’re groaning into his neck all of a sudden, and you really wish you weren’t wearing pants because the press of denim into your crotch is suddenly verging on painful. The problem is you _like_ that, though, so instead of doing anything productive you just grope at his choice rear and rut up against him like the hormone-frenzied teen you technically still are until he whaps gently at your face with the back of his knuckles to get your attention.

 

“Dave, ‘re you gonna–?”

He’s too worked up to articulate like he usually does, or even finish the sentence, and somehow that little detail’s the thing you need to drag your mind back to reality. You have a purpose here, and it’s not to get yourself off.

You grin devilishly, even though your cheek’s mashed against the neck of his sweater and he can’t see it, and then scrabble your fingertips over the softness of his stomach to make him crow out giggles and swat at you. He’s gonna get _fuzzy_ when he’s older. His dad’s an absolute bear.

 

You can already feel he’s hard with the way he’s pressing against you, but the feeling of your fingers dipping under his waistband and brushing against the silky-soft warmth of his cock is still a fucking religious experience. Your hand slides down, and you kiss him methodically while you angle your wrist to really get in there; his lips part like an invitation when your palm wraps properly around him. You don’t need asking twice.

You slide your tongue into his mouth, blatant and filthy, and start to stroke him, because he’s being so sweet, so good for you, and he deserves it.

You tell him so, actually, in a gravelly little murmur against his lips.

“C’mon, baby. You’re doin’ so _well_. Make some noise for me, gorgeous, you know I love hearin’ you.”

He’s already tossing his head back and whimpering your name before you’ve finished talking, and you can’t help but grin. Even with all his bluster, he’s so eager to please you.

You thumb teasingly over the head, biting your lip when you feel slickness there, and take your time working his throat over with slow kisses and gentle bites. He’s treating you to the sweetest little mewls and sobs you’ve ever heard; you can feel every inch of him start to tremble as he falls steadily apart in your arms.

After a minute or two, you’ve got him draped over you and humping your hand in shaky little jerks of his hips. He’s clinging tight to your shirt, and his sounds are turning deep and a little growly as he starts to care less about how he sounds to you.

Your lips brush over his ear, and you put on your best sultry voice and half-whisper to him. “You know what would make this even better?”

He takes a slow, uneven breath, pulling back to look at you. You can hear exactly how hard he’s fighting to keep his voice even, and he doesn’t quite succeed.

“...What?”

“ _If we were doing this in the woods._ ”

 

It takes him a second or two to work out what you mean, but his brow draws down, and he fixes you with a stormy, genuine glare. You cringe inside a little in spite of yourself. Shit. This isn’t–

“ _Dave._ ”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, glancing away with his jaw clenched. His fingers are still so shaky.

“Did you just… do this to me for– -?  
You know what, never mind. We’re done here.”

 

Fuck.

 

You go to reach for him, but he turns his face away and glares at the opposite wall. You didn’t–

You didn’t expect it to go like this. Maybe you should’ve thought this through a little more thoroughly.

“Dude, just–”  
“DAVE! How many more times do I need to repeat myself here?? Fucking _no_ , and that was _not_ cool, and I really did _not_ fucking appreciate it, and in all honesty I think I need some time– to myself. I just– need to be alone right now.”

 

He gets up and off you, and your fingers close on empty air instead of his wrist.

 

You very, very badly want to go after him.

You do not.

You tug your shirt back down, and pull your pants back up, and shuffle off sock-footed to the kitchen to make some fucking tea or something. Herbal. No caffeine. You need to get your shit in order.

 

The next half-hour is agonizing. He’s by himself in his room, and the silence from the door is deafening.

 

You sit, and drink your tea with milk but no sugar in it, and browse through your phone and try like hell not to cry.

(You cry a little, and go hide in the bathroom for a few minutes afterwards to make sure your face isn’t blotchy. Old habits die hard, and you’re still not comfortable openly showing that kind of thing to him.)

 

He comes out after thirty-eight minutes exactly; you couldn’t make yourself not count them. You have to will yourself not to smile when you see him. You think he can tell how relieved you are anyway, though, because he walks over and hesitates a moment before wrapping you up in a hug. His arms aren't even tense around you.

You press your face into his shirt and exhale slowly, and his fingers tighten just a little around your back.

 

He takes a few seconds to pick out his words, and his voice is careful and measured when he finally speaks.  
“Okay. So. I think we’ve got a few things to talk about here.”

You sniffle and nod. You feel like a fucking kindergartener. You’re trying very hard not to apologize for the absolutely abominable way you’re being right now, and the even more abominable way you were being before.

You think he probably knows that too. He knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes. It’d be scary if it weren’t so goddamn comforting.

 

“Yeah.”  
He hums, not sounding wholly pleased, and gives your shoulder a vague pap before pulling away a little. Just far enough to get a look at your face.

You gaze back, trying not to let it show how awful you feel.

The corner of his mouth twists a little, unhappy, but he offers you a faint smile and his hand.

“Here, c’mon. Let’s go sit.”

 

You sit, and end up explaining yourself in a big embarrassing vomit of words. He explains himself too. You don’t really have an excuse for what you did, at all, and it’s… still painful to hear him say how much it hurt to have you act the way you did. But it’s good in a way, like washing out a scraped knee.

You tell him, at length– more quietly than is characteristic for you– how much it’d mean to have him come with you. You couch it in a lot of ‘if you want to’ and ‘it’s totally cool if not’ and stuff.

You’re mildly shocked when he heaves a dramatic sigh and agrees to come.

 

The sly grin that comes afterwards is one hundred percent Karkat, though. A few moments later, the afternoon light finds both of you furiously texting Sollux.


	4. Chapter 4

Sollux is a hard sell, but with the two of you bombarding him with texts, he can’t resist for long. Nobody could– you’re a wordy pair of fuckers, and you’re pretty damn unstoppable when you agree on something.

He’s reluctant, but agrees to at least try it after a while, on the condition you cover his tab at Pizza Hut the next time you go. He drives a hard bargain– his Pizza Hut orders are famously elaborate– but you figure it’ll be worth it. Hell, maybe you’ll even end up making a profit with the proceeds from the video.

You prepare dutifully, getting a new SD card for your camera and stocking up on all the proper supplies at Karkat’s behest: long socks and bug spray and bandaids and shit, like you’re going on a backpacking trip instead of a nighttime stroll in the woods. Sollux doesn’t seem to want to be involved with the prep work, but you figure it’s fair enough since you’re basically blackmailing him into this. Besides, you’re pumped enough for all of you; your energy is enough to propel you straight through L. L. Bean and back into your house, where you sit at the kitchen table, packing a bag before heading out to meet up with Karkat and Sollux at the playground.

The sun’s just starting to fade from where it’s dipped behind the trees, and if you weren’t already busy with more lucrative shit, you might be inclined to try taking a few landscape pics.

Dirk’s making pasta and watching you, pretending he’s not, but you decide to strike up a conversation anyway. Your mouth opens, and you start with “H-”.

He cuts you off immediately. You’re pretty sure it’s a power thing, he can’t stand being not in control. It’s taken a while to get re-used to, but you’re getting there.

 

“So dare I ask what all this is for?”

You smirk a little at his back. “Sure you do. We’re hunting the New Brunswick Demon. Figuratively. The only shooting’s gonna be via a camera.”

To your vague surprise, he actually turns partway around to look at you. His face is blank as always, but practiced as you are at identifying micro-expressions around the borders of a pair of sunglasses, you can tell he’s at least a little worried about this.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

You don’t bother to conceal the blithe grin that spreads across your face at that. “No, but holy fuck, dude, I had no idea this thing’s supposed to live in _our_ woods. Shit’s fuckin’ wild, I’d be remiss as a deadbeat Youtube guy if I didn’t at least try to jump on that.”

 

A muscle in his cheek twitches, and he turns back to the pasta. It doesn’t smell like much, which is a little unusual for him; he likes his shit garlicky and spicy enough to give a racehorse a hernia. Maybe he’s having a bad day.

“Maybe so. I’ll be out again this evening, so it’s not like I’ll be around to disapprove.”  
“ _Do_ you disapprove?”

He only turns a little, but you can feel the sudden _attention_ on you from the sliver of orange iris you can see behind his shades. You square your shoulders without meaning to, and there’s a moment of silent tension before you force yourself to relax and he looks away again. A lot of unspoken communication happens between the two of you; you’re both working through a lot of shit.

“I don’t really care one way or the other, it just seems a little juvenile. If that’s what floats your metaphorical boat, though, who am I to rock it?”  
“Something like that, sure,” you echo, and stuff the second bag of jerky into your backpack. It gets wedged next to the container of blueberries you bought; Sollux mused that the creature might be vegetarian, and Karkat wanted a snack for the road.

“Just don’t track mud all over the goddamn floors when you get back. And tell Karkat and them I say hi.” Dirk walks over to drain the pasta, not wearing oven mitts, and drops the pot hastily back on the stove when he’s done. You decline to comment.

Instead, you sling your bag onto your shoulders and grab your freshly-cleaned camera, making sure your mic’s where you left it.

Dirk heads upstairs with a quiet goodbye, and you’re left to wonder briefly what’s up with him before you’re off and driving in a whirlwind through the dusk to the local playground.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Karkat and Sollux are already at the playground when you arrive, looking supremely uncomfortable. Karkat’s in the midst of spraying himself down with what you’re sure is bug spray; Sollux is swatting at his arm and frowning up at the setting sun.

You hop out, and treat them both to a winning smile and a nice healthy dose of Texan hospitality.

“Alright, you sorry bastards, let’s get going before our lord and savior Jesus comes to his senses and smites us where we stand.”

 

The forest’s darker than you remember it– but then again, you’ve only ever explored it in the daytime. Your flashlights cast sickly rings of light onto the tree trunks around you, and you can hear the call of an owl echoing somewhere in the middle distance. It’s impressively spooky. Excellent cryptid-hunting atmosphere.

Karkat’s quiet, for once. He’s probably focused– as you all are– on not tripping, because while the path into the woods starts out well-worn into the dirt, it fades gradually into leaf litter as you move away from the playground, and eventually gets faint and overgrown. You find yourself wishing you’d brought a more powerful flashlight. If something’s going to jump you, you’d never have a chance at seeing it coming.

 

Karkat verbalizes a few of these thoughts a few minutes later in a hushed half-whisper; you ignore him, and move closer to Sollux and the mic to intone a voice-over.

“Alright, we’ve been in here for like ten minutes, still no sign of anything. We’re gonna head deeper, see if we can’t track down some evidence.”

You hope the mic doesn’t catch Karkat’s shrill screech of disbelief at that. Instead of acknowledging it, you straighten up and keep going. Responding will only encourage him.

He shuts up quick as you keep walking, though. The darkness feels like a physical pressure around you; even the owl’s stopped making noise. The crunch of leaves underfoot seems unnecessarily loud. You almost jump out of your skin when Karkat steps on a branch by accident.

A few minutes pass like that, with you trying to hear past your heart pounding in your ears.

 

Except then a branch breaks that wasn’t any of the three of you, and you freeze. Probably a chipmunk, or– no, chipmunks don’t fucking break branches, it’s gotta be something bigger, something like–

 

You’re knocked onto your ass by something slamming into your chest. Somewhere beside or behind you, you’re not really sure, you hear the pounding of running footsteps on the forest floor and Karkat screaming his stupid, gorgeous head off.

Your flashlight was knocked out of your hands; you can’t see for shit. God, why the fuck did you wear shades into the woods in the middle of the night??

You locate it quickly and scramble to your feet. Karkat’s doing much the same thing, and Sollux–

 

– Sollux is nowhere to be seen. The wind rustles through the leaves above your head, but it doesn’t quite muffle the sound of retreating motion. You shine your light in that direction, but you can’t see anything.

You and Karkat exchange glances, and then _run._

 

You quickly find yourself wishing you hadn’t cut gym class, because this is taking it out of you pretty fucking fast– but you’re flying on adrenaline, you’re hyped up and ready to fight whatever the hell this thing is trying to keep you from Youtube stardom, and Karkat’s breathing harshly in an unfairly sexy sort of way behind you, so you assume he’s thinking something along the same lines. You sprint through the woods and do your best to track after the _thing_. Fuckin’ piece-of-shit friend-stealing urban legend.

 

At length, you jog to a stop, wheezing. You can’t do this. You almost tripped directly into a tree trunk. Karkat stops too, the gentleman. You shine your flashlights over the trees, revealing nothing except more trees. Fucking hell.

You lost him.

 

“Wait,” says Karkat after a moment, voice hushed and still audibly very out-of-breath. “What’s that?”

You listen. Apart from the rustling of leaves, there’s not much– wait a second.

You can see something up ahead. Pale light filters through the trees.

 

In a moment of genius, or stupidity, you turn off your flashlight and motion for Karkat to do the same, and together you creep forward through the forest by the light of the moon. Dread rises in your stomach as you get closer, but you ignore it. God only knows what’s happening to Sollux right now. Hopefully he’s okay.

Hopefully he’s still _alive_.

 

Gradually, you see a grassy clearing coming into shape up ahead. You’re pretty deep in the woods, but it looks like someone built a cabin here a long time ago– it looks pretty decrepit, and you can see the roof bowing in on one side. It’s ominous as fuck. You wish your camera had night vision, but it doesn’t. You’re not even sure if it’s recording sound anymore, the mic got lost somewhere in the scuffle.

As you get closer, you can make out a shape in the center clearing. It’s… humanoid, mostly. You can see clothes, you think, and a long pale arm, and a pair of dark–

 

– anime shades. It’s Dirk. It’s fucking Dirk.

 

You’re a _second_ away from yelling out to him when Karkat grabs your arm and gives you this _death_ glare like nothing you’ve ever seen. You go to hiss angrily at him, but he just points to the clearing– not to Dirk, but past him, into the trees, where you can just barely see a pair of glowing eyes emerging.

Your mouth goes dry, and you shut the fuck up. Dirk’s standing quite still, and he doesn’t have his sword out, which worries you.

 

The glowing eyes draw closer, and closer still, and your heart is pounding a mile a minute. As it creeps into the moonlit clearing, you start to get a sense of what it looks like; it’s smaller than you expected. Seems kind of scrawny to be a big furry beast.

As it turns out, you’re pretty much exactly correct, because when the creature steps out fully from the trees, it turns out to be not really a creature at all.

Your shit-for-brains friend Sollux Captor stands in the clearing, buck-naked, eyes blazing red and blue.

 

It’s only by the grace of god that you don’t yell in surprise. Actually, it’s by the grace of Karkat, because he smacks his hand over your mouth without even looking to see where it lands.

You turn the camera quietly off, and watch.

 

Sollux stands there staring at Dirk, and Dirk holds up his hands to show they’re empty.

“C’mon, big guy,” he calls out, and you miss what Sollux says in response, but he walks closer and throws his arms around Dirk’s neck and oh, wow, that is one intense kiss. You can see Dirk’s knees almost buckle from here.

He hauls Sollux back by the hair after a few moments and whispers something to him you’re too far away to hear. Whatever it is, it must be pretty fucking sexy, because Sollux’s long, spindly fingers come around to grip at Dirk’s ass and hitch him in close to grind, and then something happens in a blur of movement and joint locks that ends with Dirk flat on his back and Sollux shifting to press himself onto him. You never thought you’d say it in a million years, but Sollux is… kind of hot when he’s not swimming in those extra-large t-shirts.

For the next minute or two, you watch Sollux and Dirk go at each other like two teenagers who just figured out what sex is. Dirk’s making choked-off little noises like he’s crying, or in pain, and when Sollux yarns down the neck of his shirt and sinks his teeth into the meat of his shoulder, he arches and makes this unearthly _yowl_ , scrabbling to grab at his shoulders and rut his hips upwards against him. You kind of hate how pretty a picture it makes.  
  
Except then Sollux’s noises go from excited to definitively pained, and he lists to the side. Dirk rolls with him like he was expecting it and helps him lay down on his side, stroking his hair, muttering something quietly to him that makes Sollux give off a weak snort.

 

The next few minutes are...

 

… Sollux, uh, he–

 

– some things are happening with his body that _really shouldn’t be_ , and if you weren’t so terrified and freaked out, you’d be fascinated. He’s getting _taller,_ visibly– or… bigger, you guess, but either way he goes over the course of a few minutes from being neatly cradled in Dirk’s arms to being taller than him by several inches and then some. There’s fur involved, you think. His noises are starting to sound a whole lot less human.

You grope around for Karkat’s hand and hold it tight.

 

Some time later, you’re watching an enormous creature climb unsteadily to its feet. It’s vast and sort of scruffy, and you’re not quite sure what color it is, except that it looks vaguely gray in the light. It’s got a long snout and pointy ears and a powerful, well-muscled build halfway between a wolf and a human, and there are two tails curling behind it and faint stripes across its flank. Its eyes blaze mismatched under the pale moonlight, casting weird shadows onto the rest of its face.

It curls its lip to bare its teeth, and its eyes flare brighter, and it moves to loom over your ecto-brother. Its jaws part, and it leans down to take Dirk’s throat between its jaws. Vicious fangs glint as they come to rest against skin.

It is safe to say you are pants-shittingly terrified right now.

 

Abruptly, you realize you need to do something here. You don’t have your sword but you’ve got a hunting knife, you could sneak up while he’s distracted and... what? It’s still Sollux, even if he’s about to fucking eviscerate somebody.

Before you can come up with anything, you see something whizzing by you out of the corner of your eye.

 

It’s a bag of jerky.

It hits Sollux square in the side of the head and falls to the ground, spilling chunks of dried beef when it lands.

Karkat comes charging out into the clearing from beside you, fucking _sprinting_ , hollering at the top of his lungs. “ _You piece of shit, get away from him, I’ll end you, I mean it, don’t fucking test me, you goddamn mongrel._ ”

Well, fuck. Now you have to get in there too.

You charge after him and try for some yelling, but yours comes out more like “ _AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGH_ ”. On your back, your half-open backpack bounces; you whip it off, stick your hand inside, and produce a container of blueberries.  
You throw them with devastating aim at Sollux’s head. He flinches; the container bursts open, showering him and Dirk with berries.

 

Sollux…

… doesn’t really do much in the way of fighting back.

He just crouches there, staring at you both as you jog to a halt a few yards away. If it’s possible for a fuck-off-gigantic wolf-thing to look unimpressed, that’s definitely what’s happening.

 

Dirk rolls onto his side to look at you.

 

You and Karkat stand there, silent.

Sollux licks his nose.

Dirk tugs his shirt back down.

 

For a second or two, nobody says anything.

 

Eventually, you find yourself unable to keep quiet.

 

“Are you actually from New Brunswick?”

 

Sollux shakes his head.

“So why do they–”

“ _It’s an urban legend,_ ” Dirk grits out. “It doesn’t need to make a whole lot of logical sense.”

“Okay, _fine_ –” you retort, “– but if we’re not doing the logical sense thing as far as that goes, I’d sure hope there’s some in the arena of _why the fuck are you out here_.”

 

He sputters, and Karkat stares at you, incredulous.  
“You– Sollux is a fucking _dog_ and _this_ is what you choose to fixate on??”

“ _Yes!!”_

You want to say more, but you’re cut off by Sollux nudging at Dirk’s stomach with his paw-hand and making a weird canine noise. It sounds a little bit like a husky, but not quite as articulate, if that makes any sense at all.

It sounds precisely like the weird coyote noises you heard that night a few weeks ago.

 

… The coyote noises you heard the night Dirk was away.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Oh, wow.

Okay.

 

There’s…

 

There’s a lot to unpack here, isn’t there?

You stare down straight at Dirk, and he gazes right back up at you, cool as a cucumber. Even though you’re looking at him through two pairs of shades, you think he can tell exactly how pointedly you’re making eye contact.

It’s hard to tell with it being nighttime and all, but you think he’s going a little pink.

 

“So,” you deadpan, “how long have you been fucking our good friend Doglux Captor here?”

Karkat goes ‘ _what’_ and Sollux makes a noise that could either be laughter or a coughing fit, but Dirk doesn’t miss a beat. “Year and a half.”

 

“A year and a _half?_ What about the– _snow??_ ”

“That’s what the cabin is for.” He jerks his chin towards it, and from this angle, you can see fresh beams inside supporting the roof. It actually looks pretty decent in there.

“So… you’ve been sneaking out into the woods every month to meet Sollux so he can fuck you with his werewolf cock, is what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, more or less.” His voice is _dangerously_ calm.

“And when were you planning on telling either of us about this?”

That takes him off guard, you can see it. He falters for a moment– opens his mouth, then closes it– and finally reaches up to pet Sollux’s head while he replies. His fingers curl possessively into thick gray fur. “Didn’t realize I was obligated to, _bro._ ”

 

Ah.

 _That’s_ why he’s being so cagey. He’s terrified you’re going to take this– Sollux– away from him.

 

You glance over to Sollux, who’s sitting as politely as a monstrous wolf-man can, with his tails tucked neatly around his paws. He gives you a slight nod.

Karkat pipes up. “Sollux, you’re… still in there, right?”

Another nod. He licks his nose.

“You’re not about to flip out and maul any of us?”

He shakes his head with a snort of unmistakable amusement.

“Cool.”

 

You all sit and ponder that for a few moments.

Gradually, an idea starts to form in your head. A stupid, impulsive idea, but an idea nonetheless.

 

You glance sidelong at Sollux, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Hey, dude, don’t worry, the Pizza Hut agreement is still on.”

He heaves a mock sigh of relief, then shoots you a wink-and-grin combo you know he’d never do if he had words to fall back on. It’s still kind of charming.

“On one condition.”

 

A moment passes; no one speaks.

 

“Dirk, you have to share your boyfriend.”

The brick-shitting anxiety of having said that out loud is more than worth it when you hear Karkat go _‘oh’_ ever-so-quietly next to you, because you know that tone in his voice like the back of your hand.

He _likes_ that.

 

Dirk and Sollux exchange a glance, and something unspoken passes between them. Dirk speaks up after a moment.

 

“Fine, but you have to share yours too.”

Oh, wow.

Karkat sucks in a sharp breath, and you clench your jaw as you’re made _very_ aware of some things happening in your pants.

Sollux is looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, and that should _not_ be doing it for you right now, but–

 

“Deal”, Karkat breathes before you can respond, and then he’s striding forward to crouch down and straddle Dirk’s torso and kiss him hard.

You’re not proud of it, but your jaw drops like a sack of bricks.

 

You observe them for a second– Dirk does something with his mouth that makes Karkat _whine_ – and are then distracted by a cold nose against your ear. Sollux is sniffing at you with gentle whuffs of breath; he places a huge paw-hand on your shoulder, and manages to convey a sort of shrug-raised-eyebrow combo.

Well, you made your giant sexy werewolf bed. Now you suppose it’s time to lie in it.

A faint grin creeps onto your face, and you reach out to grab at his neck where a collar would be. He catches your hand in his and tugs you in with it, and all of a sudden you’re pressed up against his surprisingly broad chest and he’s, oh god, he’s hauling you hungrily in close and setting his fangs ever-so-gently on either side of your neck, and you suddenly understand why Dirk let him do this because your knees literally go weak and you whimper and clutch at him, and he lets out this low, rumbling chuckle and licks at your neck with teasing little presses of his tongue. You know he’s fucking with you– this is Sollux, after all– but you can’t find it in yourself to mind. It feels _good_ to be at his mercy like this, especially when you can enjoy the rumble of Karkat’s voice as he dirty-talks Dirk into oblivion behind you. 

You tremble in his arms, and are more than content to let him work your neck over– at least until you hear Karkat let out a low, throaty groan. When you turn around, you see him shirtless and panting; he’s grinding down on Dirk, who’s bucking back up against him, and Dirk’s mouth is on one of Karkat’s nipples.

 

Your eyes widen, then narrow, and you glance back to shoot Sollux a breathless grin.

Nothing gets you going like a little competition.

He seems to get what you have in mind, because his claws dig into your shirt, and he pushes you to the ground and holds you there. Your hands come up to hold onto him, and you can’t even wrap your fingers all the way around his wrist. Christ, you’ve got a lot of kinks to come to terms with.

And Sollux is still Sollux, without a doubt, because instead of just going ahead and shredding your shirt off you, he fucking scores it with a claw first and rips it in a perfect line down the center.

“Oh, come _on._ ” You shrug off the remainder of your shirt and lean up to grab his head in both your hands, forcing him to look at you. “ _Do me_ , Sollux Captor. I don’t want Dirk to have all the fun here.”

He snorts and jerks his chin towards the other half of your little group. You turn, following his gaze.

 

Karkat’s the one on his back now, and his pants and boxers are down around his thighs. He’s _very_ erect. Dirk’s standing to the side, undoing his own fly.

He glances back at you, and you think you see the hint of a smile ghost across his lips.

“What? I worked hard prepping myself tonight, you think I’m going to let that shit go to waste?”

His pants fall around his ankles, and it becomes apparent he’s wearing a buttplug.

A wolf tail buttplug, specifically.

 

You just about shit yourself laughing. Even Karkat’s having trouble holding back his snickering.

None of you are laughing for long, though. Dirk works the plug out of himself and discards it on top of Karkat’s shirt, and after slicking Karkat up with lube from a bottle in the pocket of his pants, he straddles him again and sinks down in one slow, practiced motion.

 

Karkat _sobs_.

 

Okay.

That _does_ it.

 

You fumble at your fly and whip off your pants so quickly your legs burn from the friction. Your boxers follow, and you spread your legs, showing off just how slick you are.

“You’re a werewolf, right?”

Your voice is soft and sultry, and Sollux’s ears prick up when he hears it. Good, he’s listening.

“Bet you can smell _exactly_ how bad I want you, then.”

 

He stares down at you and growls; it’s this tiny, rolling vocalization low in his chest, barely even a sound at all. Then he’s moving and settling himself down on top of you. His clawed hands grip your waist, and wrap nearly all the way around it.

He licks over your scars so _gently_. It sends jittery, needy pleasure all through you; you arch your back and moan louder than you meant to, and Karkat answers it from behind you with a breathless curse. Sollux follows soon after with a gorgeous base groan that pings all the right places in your brain: fear, excitement, arousal. It’s incredible to know that _you’re_ the one doing this to both of them.

He works slowly down your bare chest until he’s between your legs. You get the impression he’s about to try and tease you with how he’s nosing towards your thigh instead of your junk, but you are not having any of that at this point, no sir. You’re turned on enough it aches; you’re hard as fuck and slick enough to lube up a goddamn spaceship. You need this.

 

You tug his head forward and press his face in between your legs, and you can tell exactly when he breathes in, because this _tension_ goes through him once your pheromones finally hit him.

 

He starts licking you, and you open your mouth to groan. No sound comes out.

 

You’re left completely adrift and at his mercy, and _god_ does he deliver.

 

* * *

 

You’re not sure how much time passes, but you’re startled back into the here-and-now by an orgasm hitting you full-force. You writhe under his tongue and cry hoarsely out as it washes over you (when did your legs wrap around his neck?), and he just keeps methodically laving his tongue over the head of your cock while you shake yourself to pieces. You probably look pathetic humping his face like this.

At length, you push him away and roll onto your side, and that’s when you see Karkat watching you.

Dirk’s riding him in slow, measured rolls of his hips, and you can see it in the way he’s fighting not to thrust that Dirk has him wrapped around his finger. He’s flushed and trembling; he’s staring at you with huge dark eyes, and he can’t close his mouth, and he looks like he could suck your soul out straight through your ribcage if he moaned your name loudly enough.

 

You cannot take this shit anymore.

You roll over and push yourself up on trembling hands and knees, then reach back and press fingers into yourself. They go in easy enough it’s almost frictionless, and you flutter around them and gasp out a moan. You’re still so _sensitive_. You need more.

You need to be fucked until you don’t have the control to support your own weight.

 

Karkat’s watching you with a hungry, sex-drunk gaze while you finger yourself, and you frankly don’t see the point in keeping either of you waiting. Two fingers becomes three, which becomes four, and you can feel his and Sollux’s eyes on you like brands, tracking your every move.

You draw your fingers out of yourself once you’re too impatient to keep your show going any longer, and glance back to see what Sollux is packing.

 

 _Oh_.

 

It’s hard to see in the shadow, but when he moves in to mount you, you catch a crystal-clear glimpse of an _enormous_ cock hanging between his legs.

You wheeze, and glance over at Dirk riding your boyfriend like he’s got all the time in the world.

“How do you _fit_ that??”

This time he really does smile, and without faltering the slightest bit in his movements, he looks over at you and murmurs “ _Practice_.”

 

You swallow hard and crawl forward to hold Karkat’s hand, and when Sollux settles in above you, you don’t flinch.

Instead, you bite your lip at the press of a very warm, very substantial cockhead between your legs, and arch your back to direct it where it needs to g– _ohhh._

 

Your arms give out and your chest and face hit the grass, but that doesn’t do much of anything to stop the slow press of an absolutely _massive_ cock spreading you open. It’s almost too much; Karkat’s big enough, sure, but nothing like this, this has got you shaking and arching your back and spreading your legs like a bitch in heat to give him easier access, and the gradual slide of him into you and the warm, solid pressure along your back and the prick of claws digging into the skin of your hips is mind-blowingly divine.

Your mouth is hanging open and you’re gasping out breathless, awestruck little curses and whimpers. It just keeps _going_ , you’re so full, you can’t handle this, you’re going to die and come and self-combust all at once.

 

All of a sudden, though, your lips are pressing up against someone else’s. There’s a shaky but solid hand in your hair, easing you in closer. Karkat mewls into your mouth and kisses you as gently as he’s able. His fingers stroke through your hair. He’s doing his best to soothe you.

You groan into his mouth and suck on his tongue like the little whore you are. A few seconds later, you can feel Sollux bottom out inside you– or, more accurately, you feel something thick and hot pressing up against you at his base.

His _knot_.

 

You have never been more frantic to get plowed into the fucking ground in your entire life than you are in this moment.

 

You kiss Karkat like your life depends on it, licking and whining into his mouth and nipping at his lips, clinging to him and rocking simultaneously back to goad Sollux on. He holds back at first, but when you clench deliberately around him, he lets out this incredible snarl and sets in fucking you like he _means_ it, like you really are a bitch in heat and he’s about to claim you for his own.

Karkat’s losing his fucking mind too. Dirk’s sped up– he’s crouched over him and bouncing, rocking his hips down hard on every stroke– and your poor sweetheart can’t help but try to buck upwards every time, he’s absolutely out of his mind with the instinct to _move_ and it’s just urging you along even worse. You kiss Karkat like you’re trying to make him come with your mouth alone, hot and sloppy and fucking filthy, and when Sollux’s knot slides into you, you _scream_.

 

You come so hard your vision and hearing fuzz to static.

 

And it doesn’t end, it just keeps dragging on, because right as you reach the peak of your climax Sollux twitches hard inside you and then snarls and thrusts in as deep into you as he can get, and you can _feel_ him filling you as he comes, you’re plugged up so perfectly with his knot and god, it’s not stopping, it’s so much, and it’s– fucking depraved, but all you can do is sob against Karkat’s lips and whimper out pleas for _more_.

Sollux is still coming by the time Karkat crashes over the edge, and it only takes a couple more bounces on Karkat’s cock and a frantic few strokes of his hand for Dirk to spill as well. He comes all over Karkat’s chest and stomach, and Karkat groans like he’s dying; you know from experience exactly how much he loves that.

 

You find that you’re crying. Your breath is coming in tiny, overstimulated gasps; your face is damp.

Sollux is huffing out quiet pants of pleasure above you; Karkat’s hugging your head to his shoulder and shivering as Dirk eases up off him.

You listen to the calls of night birds and the rustle of leaves around you, and reach back to rest a hand over your abdomen, which– to your mild surprise– is palpably swollen with how goddamn full you are.

It sends a warm, sensitive feeling through you, and you hum and rock back just a little bit on him, feeling him twitch inside you in response. You’re still crying a little, but it’s good, it’s so fucking good.

 

Karkat kisses you again. You explore his mouth with your tongue, languid and slow. He smiles against your lips.

 

The night air is blessedly cool against your skin.

You’re so full.

You close your eyes.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

You wake up in your bed with a warm body beside you. Sollux is passed out hard in one of your shirts, legs tangled up with yours, arms wrapped around an equally passed-out Karkat on his other side. It’s early, if the weak light around the edges of your curtain is any indication.

 You leverage yourself gingerly out of bed (Sollux sighs in his sleep when you move away) and watch the both of them breathe for a moment before padding downstairs. It’s kind of uncomfortable to walk. You’re more than a little sore.

 

Downstairs, you find Dirk at the stove frying bacon. He’s wearing boxers and a flowery apron, plus a few scratch marks across his back from last night. He doesn’t turn at your approach, but you can tell he hears you.

“Sleep well?”  
“Pretty well, yeah.” You walk over beside him, looking down at the bacon. “You?”

“Well enough. Can’t complain.”

 

You’re both quiet for a moment. He forks a few pieces of bacon out onto a plate, then leaves the rest to get crispy the way he knows you and Karkat like it.

 

“That was… really nice last night.”

He glances up at your voice and blinks. You realize he’s not wearing shades. Neither are you.

 

“Yeah.”

He’s quiet, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes.

“Yeah, it was.”

You crack a half-grin and bump shoulders with him. “We should do it again sometime.”

He doesn’t reply right away, but you see him smile down at the stove.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering group FRUITY ASSHOLE RUMPUS FACTORY --

TA: hey.  
TA: gue22 what tiime of the month iit ii2.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] changed the name of the group to FRUITY ASSHOLE RUMP-US FACTORY --

TT: Nice.

CG: SHIT, ALREADY? THAT CAME UP FAST.

TG: know what else is coming up fast

TA: eheheheheh.  
TA: diirk, do you have the thiing?

TG: what thing

CG: SECONDED. I DIDN’T HEAR ABOUT A THING.

TA: that2 cau2e iit2 a 2urprii2e, numbnut2.  
TA: diirk, iif you would?

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] has attached collar-finished.jpg --

CG: HOLY SHIT.

TG: oh wow  
TG: oh jeez

TA: goddamn, that turned out really fuckiing niice.

TT: You like it?

TA: god ye2.

TT: Good boy.

CG: SO THAT’S WHAT YOU GUYS’VE BEEN HIDING FOR THE PAST THREE WEEKS.

TG: now this  
TG: this is gonna be a whole lot of fun

 

 


End file.
